So as I drug my tired ass self into the gym this morning at 6:04 for my 6:00 appointment, the first words out of my trainers mouth were, “Let’s get you on the scale”. This is about the point I contemplated faking a ruptured appendix and fleeing.
I am not normally afraid of the scale, nor do I usually avoid it. On a typical day, I will weigh myself multiple times just to see the crazy fluctuation that I will have in single day. Neurotic? Maybe. However, I think it’s fun and I tell myself it’s for the better of science and mankind. I digress.
Of course, as I stood on the scale, sans shoes thank you very much, there it was staring me in the face: Green Bean Casserole and Pumpkin Pie.
Now, before you go and freak out, no there wasn’t a single fatty carb in sight, just a big fat number that was 4 lbs higher than 1.5 weeks ago. Shit just got real.
This is the point where my outgoing, fun bubbly self turns in to an ostrich with my head in the sand. No eye contact here, just a slight shuffle of my feet and hushed mumblings of absurdities. After a quick reality check with Ben, he looked at me, said “ok, let’s do this” and we went on to workout.
Not really sure if this early am workout thing is for me, I honestly fell asleep on the way home at a red light, then again in my car, parked in my garage. Usually, even after early morning workouts, I’m totally pumped up, but today I was contemplating whether or not single arm rows had just given me mononucleosis. Then I remembered they kicked not kissed my ass.